


Maybe? Definitely.

by protestacular



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Father/Son Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2870405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protestacular/pseuds/protestacular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George Michael and Michael finally get to spend some quality time together at the cabin in the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe? Definitely.

George Michael awoke to find himself in the stair car, speeding down the highway, with his cheek pressed against his father's shoulder. Michael's hand was resting on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, and as George Michael lifted his head and blinked blearily at the scenery passing before his eyes he shifted away from his dad's touch. Michael glanced over at his son and favored him with a small smile.

 

“You were out like a light, pal. Our dreams are about to come true.”

 

“Maeby?”

 

“Definitely. We are going camping, it's finally happening.”

 

George Michael scooted over to the other side of the cab, reeling from the sudden change in circumstances, and let out a long-suffering sigh. The last thing he remembered was sitting in a parking lot in Reno, his chance to be with Maeby finally within reach. But, once again, it had been snatched away from him.

 

“It's never happening.”

 

Michael didn't hear him, however, and continued on. “I put this off too long, and it's too important.”

 

Sudden anxiety overtook George Michael as the reality of the situation came into focus and he realized what his dad was hoping to get out of this trip. Not that he was terribly surprised by it; he'd known this day was coming for years. He'd been anticipating it, and even kind of looking forward to it, if he was honest with himself. But now that it was happening, now that he was sitting in car with his father speeding down the highway towards the inevitable, he was filled with self-doubt.

 

“Dad, are you uh...are you sure we're really ready to go... _camping_?”

 

“Of course George Michael, why wouldn't we be ready?”

 

“No it's nothing, it's just...this is a pretty big milestone in our relationship. I mean, we've never...we've never been camping before, you know? I wouldn't want to jump into it the first chance we get just to get it out of the way. It should be special.”  
  
“This will be special! Just the two of us, alone in the cabin. We've really been needing this time together, and this is the perfect chance. It's gonna be great pal, you'll see.”

 

George Michael simply nodded and kept his eyes focused out the window as Michael reached over and patted him on the shoulder. He was right; they hadn't been spending any time together lately, and he did miss him. Plus he couldn't bring himself to disappoint his dad, who seemed so excited about this. So he stayed quiet and opted to keep his misgivings to himself.

 

*

 

The rest of the ride to the cabin was mostly silent as George Michael thought nervously about what exactly it was that he was about to do with his father. Michael, for his part, was content with simply being alone in his son's presence for the first time in what felt like ages.

 

They arrived after dark and entered the cabin wielding lanterns, and George Michael squinted in the low light as he tried to take in his surroundings. The cabin was quaint and cozy, almost romantic, even, and George Michael thought that this wouldn't be such a bad place for their first time. It made him feel calmer and more confident, like maybe he was ready for this after all.

 

Michael took his son's backpack and grinned at him. “I'll go put our stuff away, then we can light up a fire in the fireplace and really get this trip started.” He made his way to the back of the cabin with the bags and returned a few moments later, before busying himself with starting a fire. George Michael stood in the center of the room and watched him, feeling like he should be saying something, but not able to make any words come out.

 

“Ah, that's much better.” Michael stood up and watched the fire that was now roaring, admiring his work. The warm, flickering light it gave off made everything seem more intimate, and George Michael's pulse was racing as his dad finally turned his attention to him.

 

George Michael remained stock-still as Michael approached him, putting his hands on his waist and smiling softly down at him. What little breath he had in him hitched in his throat as his dad leaned in, just the slightest bit, and stared into his eyes. “I can't believe we actually made it out here. I'm so glad this is finally happening.”  
  
“So...so am I.” George Michael's voice wavered, but he meant it. The familiar warmth and smell of his father being so close was affecting him, and he was flooded with a sudden desire to feel more of him, to taste him. He leaned up and slowly, tentatively, pressed his lips against Michael's, shivering as he felt his tongue slip into his mouth briefly before his dad pulled away.

 

“George Michael what...what are you doing?”

 

The blood drained immediately from George Michael's face. Oh _no_ , what had he _done_? “Dad, I'm...I'm sorry, I thought...I thought this was why we came here, I thought we were going to...” This was it, his dad probably hated him now, thought he was some kind of pervert, was going to disown him, how had he so completely misread – 

 

“No, I mean, what are you doing with your teeth?” Michael clarified with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You don't need to do that. Here, let me show you.” And Michael leaned forward, kissed his son again, gently guiding him and coaxing his mouth open with his tongue. He moaned quietly as George Michael began to get the hang of it, and rewarded him by softly nibbling at his bottom lip. He broke the kiss after a few seconds, and smirked when George Michael whimpered. “See, now, isn't that better? Much better.”

 

George Michael nodded and tried to gain his composure, breathing too heavily to speak. He didn't get the chance though, because his dad moved down and once again pressed their lips together, much more roughly this time, pulling George Michael close into his body. Michael began rocking his hips forward against his son and George Michael gasped, letting his head fall to the crook of his neck as he grasped desperately at the fabric of his shirt. Suddenly, he no longer regretted that he'd missed his chance with Maeby. “Oh God, dad...”

 

“Mmm, you like that, huh George Michael?”  
  


“God, _yes._ ”

 

Michael grinned and rolled his hips against his son's a few more times before stilling the motion and backing away. George Michael's heart was racing, and he was almost impossibly hard, and he wanted more. He didn't have the faintest idea how to actually ask for what he wanted, though, and instead stood there with his mouth hanging open, staring at Michael.

 

Fortunately for him, he didn't need to ask. Michael reached forward and placed his hand over his son's crotch, palming his cock through the fabric. George Michael bit back a moan, and Michael met his eyes, smiled warmly at him. “Are you sure you want this?” Michael's voice was gentle, comforting, and George Michael felt his hesitation fading away.

 

“Y-Yeah, I want...I want this.”

 

Michael's smile grew as he took his son's hand and guided him over to the leather armchair nearby, telling him to sit down. George Michael quickly obliged, watching with wide eyes as Michael crouched down in front of him and reached forward to unclasp his belt. He drew in a shaky breath as his dad undid his fly, sneaking his hand into his pants and boxers, tracing his aching cock lightly with his fingers before pulling it out and licking his lips. His head was swimming as the reality of what was about to happen began setting in.

 

His dad was on his knees in front of him, his dad was stroking his cock, his dad was about to, his dad was about to...oh,  _God._

 

He threw his head back against the seat as he felt Michael's tongue running along the underside of his dick, and he absentmindedly reached forward to bury his fingers in his hair. Michael drew back and George Michael whimpered at the feeling of his father breathing against his cock, and he couldn't stop himself from screaming as Michael bent down once more and took the entire thing into his mouth. His eyes slipped shut as his dad began sucking on it with increasing intensity. He was already getting close, and he lifted his head to say something, to warn him, but it was too late. He stared at his dad's face as he came into his mouth, groaning as he watched his father swallow every last drop of his orgasm before pulling his mouth off of him slowly.

 

Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood, motioning for George Michael to move over in the chair and sitting next to him. They kissed again, and Michael freed his own erection before taking his son's wrist into his hand and guiding it down, his hand covering George Michael's as he folded his fingers tentatively around it. George Michael stared into his fathers eyes, who gave him a small reassuring smile as took his wrist again and began moving it up and down.

 

“There you go, George Michael. Mmm, yeah, just like that.”

 

George Michael stared at Michael's face as he jerked him off with increasing confidence, fascinated by his wet, parted lips, his small gasps, the way his eyes screwed shut when he gave him a particularly hard stroke. It was almost too much, and he needed to do something to distract himself, so he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Michael's neck as he sped up the motion of his hand. “Keep going, feels so good...”

 

Michael was bucking his hips desperately, and it only took a couple more strokes before he was spilling into his son's hand and crying out. George Michael pulled away and grimaced at the wetness, wiping it on the front of his pants.

 

Michael wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him close, nuzzling into his hair, and they stayed in the embrace for a few quiet minutes as they both recuperated and their breathing returned to normal.

 

“Was that...was that good, Dad?”  
  


Michael chuckled, ran a hand through George Michael's hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, it was good, son. It was very good.”

 

George Michael sighed, relieved. “Good.”

 

The relief didn't last long, though, and he became nervous again as he thought about what he really wanted but still didn't know how to ask for. He turned to his dad and looked at him, hoped that he had some sort of telepathic ability, pleaded with his eyes.

 

“What's wrong, George Michael?”  
  
“It's nothing. I was just thinking, hoping, that maybe we could...” His throat went dry and he trailed off, unable to make himself say the words.

 

“Hey, hey, don't be afraid to ask. We can do whatever you want to do. We have all night, and that's what this trip is for. What is it?”

 

“IwashopingthatmaybeIcouldfuckyou.” The words came out in a rush and George Michael was blushing furiously, averting his father's gaze.

 

Michael chuckled again and grabbed George Michael's face, turning it towards him, and kissed him. “That's what you were afraid to ask me? Of course you can, if that's what you want. Is that what you want?”  
  
George Michael blushed even harder, nodding his head. “Yes. Please?”

 

Michael didn't say anything, just smiled and stood, pulling George Michael up with him, and reached forward to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He stripped his son slowly, savoring it, stopping occasionally to kiss him and hold him and reassure him that everything was going to be okay. Once George Michael was naked Michael sat him back down in the chair, working on removing his own clothes as George Michael watched with obvious interest.

 

Michael smirked slightly when he saw that his son was already getting hard again and stroked his own cock a few times, more for George Michael's benefit than his own. When he finished undressing he returned to the chair, this time straddling George Michael's hips and sitting in his lap. George Michael brought his hands up and ran them along his father's back, digging his nails into his skin when Michael leaned down to trail his tongue along his neck, his collarbone and finally his chest. George Michael bit his lip, too embarrassed to make any sounds, until his dad wrapped his mouth around his nipple and bit down gently, and George Michael arched his back and cried out in pleasure.

 

Michael's erection was pressed against his own, and George Michael began thrusting his hips against it, whimpering at the contact, grateful when his dad finally seemed to get the hint. Michael kissed his son one more time and climbed off of him. “I'll be right back,” he whispered, before heading back to retrieve something from his bag.

 

He returned a few seconds later with a bottle of lube, and climbed into George Michael's lap once again. He opened the bottle and squirted some onto George Michael's cock, who flinched slightly at the sudden cold. Michael wrapped his hand around him and gave him a few strokes, warming the lube, and George Michael was desperate for more.

 

“Dad, fuck, please...”

 

Michael retracted his hand and repositioned himself above George Michael, sinking slowly down onto his cock. George Michael moaned loudly and held onto his father's hips so tightly his fingers were sure to leave bruises, and Michael dipped down to kiss him passionately, staying still to let his son get used to the feeling.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

George Michael was overwhelmed, the pleasure more intense than anything he'd ever experienced before, but he nodded. He groaned low in his throat as his father gripped his shoulders and began moving on top of him, slowly at first, lifting up and coming back down gently. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his father, staring in awe as Michael picked up the pace and began to ride him hard, his head thrown back and eyes shut, panting and gasping each time he came down.

 

“Mmm, George Michael, fuck, you feel so good. God, you're so so good.”

 

George Michael began to roll his hips into him, already getting close, and he slipped his hand between their bodies to wrap around his dad's cock, squeezing it softly before beginning to stroke it in earnest, hard and fast. Michael bent down to nibble at George Michael's earlobe, and his humid breath against his skin made him shudder.

 

“Shit, Dad, I'm...oh god yes, harder Dad, please...”

 

“Oh yeah, you like that? Come for me George Michael, come on, I wanna feel you come inside me.”

 

George Michael pressed his face into Michael's chest, moaning uncontrollably as he rode him harder, and it wasn't much longer before his whole body tensed and he came into his dad with a loud cry. Michael continued his movements, wringing out his son's orgasm, before getting up and moving to settle at his side. He let his son catch his breath, placing soothing kisses on his cheek and into his hair and wrapping his arms around him. When George Michael's breathing began to slow he turned his attention to his own painfully hard cock and grasped himself, but his son quickly stopped him and replaced his hand with his own. He stroked him quickly and roughly, and a few short seconds later Michael was coming hard into his hand for the second time that night, his son's name falling from his lips in a quiet gasp.

 

They sat there for a while, holding each other and breathing heavily, basking in the glow of their orgasms. Michael closed his eyes and had started to doze off when he was awakened by his son's voice.

 

“Thanks for taking me out here, Dad. I really have missed spending time with you.”

 

Michael turned toward his son and beamed, touched by his words. “You're welcome. I've missed you too, George Michael. We really needed this. And I'm glad you had a good time.”

 

“Yeah, we did. I love you, and I hate that you're working so hard all the time. I never get to see you anymore.”

 

“I know, and I'm sorry. The company needs me, and the family needs me, and sometimes I forget that you need me more. I guess I haven't been a very good father lately. But I love you too. And I promise, we'll spend a lot more time together from now on.”

 

“Good.” George Michael snuggled into his dad's arms and closed his eyes, comforted by the sound of his heartbeat, looking forward to finally getting to spend the time with his dad that he'd always wanted.


End file.
